An Unordinary Man
by Kumarahaz
Summary: Polgara's and Durnik's wedding night. Seems to be something that many want to read but not actually write, so I went through the "trouble" to enrich the Internet :P Enjoy, or not!


Several cheers were heard when Garion and Ce'Nedra retreated to the royal chambers after the wedding reception. Polgara, who was dancing with her father, saw no reason to stay much longer. She caught Durnik's eyes and nodded when he raised his eyebrow in question. He had not danced with anyone during the evening, telling her that it did not feel right to mingle with royalties. The smith entered the floor hesitantly and Belgarath handed over Polgara to him with a mischievous smile before grabbing the ever cheerful Queen Layla for another dance.

They had been dancing together in preparation since Durnik had proclaimed that he had never danced the kind of dances that kings and queens did, but it did not take a lot of practice before he performed the movements as if he had done it his entire life. It annoyed Polgara slightly that he was a lot clumsier now than earlier, obviously not using his full capacity, and he kept looking around them instead of at her, as if he was afraid that they would bump into the other guests.

"I think we should be leaving about now, Pol," he said nervously when he thought that they had danced long enough. Polgara agreed at once, seeing how tortured he looked.

Back in her - now their - rooms she noticed how most of his tension disappeared. He let out a sigh of relief and gave her a hint of a smile. "So, it's done at last."

"Not quite yet," she said, looking down a bit nervously.

She had known him for so many years and not thought herself to love him more than as a dear friend. To her own awareness she had never even been superficially attracted to him. Yet she had been almost compelled at times to touch him, embrace him, have him close just for the sake of him being there. He was warm, solid and comforting. He caught her when she fainted and never left her side at Thull Mardu and waking up in a hostile place like Emperor Zakath's tent felt all in order with his protective arms wrapped around her.

It was when he carried her away from Zakath that day, not allowing her to tax herself by walking and not allowing anyone else to take care of her even if they insisted, that she first came to realize that she not only felt comfort around him. A bed had been made for her and Durnik lowered her onto it so carefully, as if she were made of glass. His touch was completely respectful and appropriate when he put the blanket over her and made sure that she was comfortable, but her body tingled with excitement all the same. When he left she closed her eyes and was bombarded with thoughts that she had never entertained before.

Maybe. Maybe when it is all done. Maybe.

Her dreaded fate was to wed Torak and go to his bed willingly it although it repulsed her in a normal state. Marriage was what he would force upon her and what she would escape by winning. That she could marry someone else had not occurred to her since she lost Ontrose so long ago.

Her true feelings for Durnik had always been deeper than she had allowed them to be. She had always pushed such thoughts away as nonsense she did not have time for, not with the world at stake. Garion was what mattered. Garion had to live and win.

The denied emotions struck her at once when they were wounded to the core, when Durnik died right before her eyes. That brave, dear fool!

The Man With Two Lives.

Durnik made sure that the door was properly locked before he walked up to her and put his arms around her, drawing her in for a kiss very unlike the one he gave her in public. When parted Polgara gave him a seductive smile and turned around so he could reach the buttons on the back of her dress.

"Such fine material, Pol... what if I break it?" He laughed nervously as he brushed her silky black hair to the side. The hands that had made a lifelike rose out of steel of course worked the buttons easily, if hesitantly.

"See? You're doing just fine."

"I'll just never get used to velvet," he mumbled behind her back. He started to slide the dress down over her shoulders, but then stopped suddenly and removed his hands from her.

"You act as if you are afraid of me, Durnik."

"Maybe I am... just a little. Or not really afraid of _you_, Pol. Definitely not! It's just... your dress, this room... I feel like I'm not supposed to be here."

"What on earth do you mean?" she turned around to face him and saw his blushing face and sad eyes. "I want you to be here and you are my husband! I was ready to give up my whole life to be with you!"

The pain and guilt this caused to him was evident and he looked down from her gaze. "I'm sorry, Pol. So sorry. I'm happy that I did not rob you of your powers at least." Now he made that nervous laugh again. "That's not something you throw away for a common smith."

"You're not just a common smith!"

"I am who I always were. My life was already worth nothing compared to yours, that is why I gave it up so easily, you know?" As always when he was reminded of his own death his eyes seemed to stop fixing on what was immediately in front of him, as if he was looking at something beyond existence. "I was never of much use to anyone, being neither a warrior nor a sorcerer."

She took his hands - hands that anyone in their right mind would envy, but he did not think worthy enough to touch her. "You're talking nonsense, Dear. Pure nonsense."

"You wore this dress when I realized what I already knew, in that inn where you had it made for you," he said slowly. "You were always so beautiful and regal, like a queen, and then you finally acted like the lady you always were." He paused. "Ladies don't want smiths, and a smith would be called a fool or madman for thinking they could be with one."

"Aldur was aware of this, remember?" she said softly and touched his cheek. "He knew that a marriage between us would never work out unless we were made equal, and now we are."

"I might have been given powers similar to yours now, Pol, but it is not by my own doing and I do not know if I deserve it. I definitely can't act or feel like a sorcerer, so maybe it doesn't even make a difference. I feel the same as always, and you are the one you always were."

She could not listen any longer to this. "Stop it!" she exclaimed and squeezed him close, feeling his solid, comforting body against her. She was the one supposed to comfort _him_ now! "I'm telling you that it's pure nonsense. You've seen noblemen up close by now and you know that they are no better than you! They did nothing to deserve their position. They just happened to be born and even the biggest idiot in history managed that. How is that different from how you were given your new powers?"

"Well... I suppose you might be right there." He did not quite sound convinced yet.

"Besides, you could already work magic with your mind and your hands before using the Will and the Word. We would never have been able to carry all those ships over the plains with our minds! We would never even have tried such an impossible stunt! But you invented a solution to a problem that no one even knew existed. That is like magic to most people, you know, and you have done so much to be admired for."

"If you say so..." he cleared his throat and wrapped his arms tighter around her.

She laughed and leaned in closer, whispering into his ear. "Now, will you help me get this dress off?"

With renewed confidence, he caressed her arms lightly before getting hold of the embroidered neckline. Leaning in to kiss her neck, he bared her shoulders and placed feather-like kisses on her exposed skin. The sensation she had first felt in Thull Mardu was back and she would have lost her balance if he had not instinctively read her body language and put his hand on her lower back for support.

The dress fell to the floor with a rustle and Polgara was left standing in her much simpler white linens. Durnik picked her up as easily and gently as always and gave her a light kiss on the mouth before carrying her towards the bed.

"Tell me how to please you, Pol," he whispered into her ear. "I will do anything to please you."

Something deep inside her was touched by this and she felt her body react with an overwhelming excitement. Polgara knew most there was about the anatomy of males and females and reproduction. She had assisted many childbirths and knew most of the mysteries of the human body, but she had always been a spectator. She had been the expert, not the wife or the mother.

Durnik was far from ignorant, having much knowledge about breeding and delivering animals, but knowing his moral standards he had most likely not engaged in this way with a woman before either. Polgara had talked and joked with Layla, trying to gain some insight in what feelings were involved when all those male and female parts came together, but the queen had just stared at her, not understanding what she meant. Wasn't it obvious?

But Polgara seemed to have all sorts of feelings without even being aware of them. Durnik wanted to know what she wanted him to do, but she barely knew it herself. When he lowered her onto the bed, slowly and carefully, she trembled. Her entire body heated and she was sure that her face was just as red as his.

The smith had worn fine Rivan wools and linen for the ceremonies rather than the velvets he had been gifted by Fulrach. He had always found them foppish and unbearable, but worn them anyway because it was expected of him and he found no way to escape. He would not dream of disgracing his own wedding with them.

Now he took a deep breath and started to undress before her eyes, fumbling slightly but never fully losing control of his able hands. She had seen him shirtless before, while tending to various wounds from the smithy and later after battles, but then she had not quite looked at _him_, just whatever needed taking care of. Undamaged body parts were irrelevant and faded away. Now when his shirt came off, it was as if she saw his perfectly proportioned, muscular body for the first time. That was the chest that she had been leaning against so often, and those were the arms that held her. He was stunning. When he kicked off his boots and unbuckled his belt she unconsciously held her breath.

Stripped down to his loincloth, he joined her on the bed and cradled her in his arms. She kissed him slowly, running her fingers through his brown, wavy hair. Pressing closer to his warm skin, she felt his hard member against her hip. He made an endearing sound at the contact and pushed against her slightly out of instinct. When she took his hand and placed it on her breast he squeezed it lightly through the thin fabric. Soon he circled and caressed her sensitive nipples in ways that made her melt.

"Durnik," she breathed. "I want to feel you against my skin." She sat up on her knees and gathered the hem of her shift, swiftly pulling it over her head. Just as quickly she got rid of her undergarments, not looking up to see Durnik's eyes glow at her until she was naked before him. She did not need to tell him to take off his loincloth.

Male genitals mostly repulsed Polgara. They were usually too hairy, had odd colorations and led to all sorts of stupid behavior in men depending on what feelings of superiority or inferiority they felt over them. It did not help that the first ones she had seen had been attached to dead bodies during her first, not quite legal, medical studies. But she did not mind reaching out to grasp Durnik's lengh with a gentle hand. There was nothing grotesque about his body. All of him seemed to be ideal proportions, the beauty of the norm that was too often taken for average but was in fact very rare.

She felt eager to skip right ahead to the act, but remembered Layla's words. It was best to get properly prepared, especially the first time. Durnik watched her with amazement as she stroked him and looked a tiny bit disappointed when she stopped, but as always he was eager to please. He laid her down against the pillows and kissed the now bare skin on her breasts, her stomach and her thighs. With her heart pounding in her chest, she guided his mouth to her core, and he knew what she wanted from him.

The climax made her cry out and twist around on the bed in involuntary convulsions. "Gods, hope I didn't kick you," she panted when it had subsided.

Durnik smiled at her from between her legs. "It takes more than a beautiful woman thrashing on a bed to hurt me." He came up so his face was on level with hers. "Do you think you're ready?" She nodded. There was an almost overbearing stretching feeling at first, but a few minutes of lying still with him inside her relaxed her enough to stand gentle movements.

They moved like the slow waves of the sea. Durnik had always been patient in his love to her, waiting even when it seemed hopeless. He was not rushing anything, did not focus on his own pleasure.

Aldur had been completely wrong to call him just an ordinary man.


End file.
